


Gitchi Gitchi Ya Ya

by collatorsden_archivist



Category: Ashes to Ashes, Life on Mars & Related Fandoms, Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, R/NC-17 - Brown Cortina, Time Period: 1973-1981 (Life on Mars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-03
Updated: 2008-12-03
Packaged: 2019-01-20 19:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12440349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collatorsden_archivist/pseuds/collatorsden_archivist
Summary: Did you know the song Lady Marmalade was first performed in 1975? Sam does.





	Gitchi Gitchi Ya Ya

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Janni, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [the Collators' Den](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Collators%27_Den), which was moved to the AO3 to ensure access and longevity for the fanworks. I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the Collators' Den collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/collatorsden/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Title taken from the song Lady Marmalade, written using the prompt _Sam/Gene, French vocabulary lesson_  
>  (and thanks to the lovely candesgirl for checking over the french bits for me!)

  
Author's notes: Sam should never underestimate Gene.

* * *

Sam stared down at the forms spread out over the surface of his desk, hoping that if he glared at them hard enough they might spontaneously burst into flames and save him the trouble of filling them out. Usually he didn't mind the monotonous work, but after an entire day of the department being forced to rewrite old case notes (to assist the Regional Crime Squad with an investigation) Sam was not far from borrowing a lighter, setting the entire pile alight and then using the ashes as confetti. Just as he was pulling on his jacket and contemplating joining those of the team who were already at the pub, a looming shadow over his desk reminded him that it wasn't just him and the W.P.C's staying behind to do work.

"You better not be thinking about sneakin' off to pub like the rest of those bastards."

Looking up Sam had to bite his lip to keep from smiling at the disheveled state of his D.C.I.

With his brown-blonde hair completely askew, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and ink smudges across his hands and face, the man looked frustrated and about ready to make good on his threat to carve Litton's scrotum out with a spoon.

Making matters decidedly more complicated was the certain masochistic part of Sam's brain that seemed hell-bent on finding the current view arousing and forwarding that message on to the rest of his body.

"Earth to Gladys?" as the other man started clicking ink stained fingers a few inches away from his nose Sam shook his head in an (unsuccessful) attempt to purge images of a considerably more disheveled Gene from his mind.

"Uh... I was just thinking about..." pausing Sam racked his brain for an excuse and then snorted slightly when inspiration stuck. "Well, I was just wondering....," he continued, "...'voulez vous couche avec moi, ce soir'?" **1.  
**  
Gene gave him a strange look and then rolled his eyes.

"You been up in the sky with Lucy an' 'er diamonds again?" Sam blinked.

"Sorry?"

"What the bleedin' 'ell are you on about?"

"Voulez vous couche avec moi, ce soir?" Sam mouthed the words slowly and deliberately, relishing the opportunity to confuse Gene while simultaneously asking that particular question without fear of retribution.

Across from him, Gene sighed and leaned back on the desk in front of Sam's.

"An' in English, you ponce?"

Coughing to mask a laugh, Sam pretended he was clearing his throat. "Oh, nothing", pausing again he threw in an extra cough for good measure and smiled, "Just nonsense, Guv. Don't mean anything." Gene threw him a sceptical look.

"That right?" Gene asked, the combination of his suspicious tone, and his single arched eyebrow not helping Sam's problem at all.

"Yeah, er, yeah." Sam shifted in his seat, 'clearing his throat' again to cover his reaction to the friction of his blooming erection brushing against too-tight pants. "Just being ah-annoying."

Gene squinted at him with arms folded across his chest and his posture defiant.

"Sure you didn't just insult my mum?"

Sam pulled a face at the thought.

"I swear."

Still eyeing him suspiciously Gene brushed his thumb against his nose and stood up.

"Fine. Well, seein' as yer almost done wit' that paperwork I want a word in private."

Without saying another word Gene returned to his office, leaving the door open behind him.

Pausing to readjust himself under the desk Sam desperately tried to slaughter his budding arousal with the mental image of Litton and Ray dancing in fishnets and suspenders.

"You comin', Tyler?" Cringing, Sam rose from his chair, and pulling his jacket down as far as it would go, strode over very quickly to Gene's office, shutting the door behind him and heading over to where the man was waiting by his own desk .

"What is it?"

Setting down an empty glass Gene approached Sam menacingly, running his tongue over his top lip and looking much like a beast surveying its prey as he backed him up against the back wall.

"Do you think I was born yesterday?" he asked in a deadly quiet voice.

"Excuse me?"

"Je n'y crois pas à ces conneries!" **2.**

"You speak french?" Sam was too preoccupied with figuring out a way to pass his words off as a bad joke to be able to contain the incredulous tone.

"Oui," The word was whispered in his ear as Gene lunged forwards, grabbing Sam's arse with both hands and pulling the man forward into his body. "Not that it 'as much in common with that rhymin' bastardization you just spat out." He growled, nipping Sam's ear with his teeth.

"What... er..." Sam found articulation difficult as one of Gene's hands moved to attend to the bulge in his trousers, even more so when he stopped palming him through the material and instead drew back slightly to tease him with painfully soft brushes of his fingertips. "W-what should I have said?"

"Tu veux coucher avec moi, ce soir? would 'ave been alright..." Gene trailed off not pausing in his administrations. **3 **.****

"Mmmmm?" Sam gave up on coherency altogether as Gene started sucking on his neck.

"But I'd probably use 'Je vais te faire le cri perçant'..." **4 ** **.******

Sam shot Gene an inquisitive look that quickly turned to "pissed off" as the man removed his hands and backed away.

"An' what's that in English?!"

"Get over to Lost an' Found in the next fifteen minutes an' you might find out." Gene grinned evilly, as he grabbed his coat from his chair and shrugged it on over his shoulders.

He paused as he neared the door, his hand hovering on the handle and his eyes raking over Sam's body.

"Oh, an' you might want to 'olster that weapon, Sammy-boy, could poke someone's eye out wit' tha' thing."


End file.
